


Pulse 10

by coldfusion9797



Series: Pulse [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Season/Series 12, Sibling Incest, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26641342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfusion9797/pseuds/coldfusion9797
Summary: Sam and Dean figure out what's important.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Pulse [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914787
Comments: 1
Kudos: 148





	Pulse 10

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate/extended version of the scene at the end of 12.18.

Another day, another hunt. This time it was some lunatic family with a pet god in the basement. Nutcases. What Bishop said did get him to thinking though.

He pulls two bottles of beer from the fridge and hands one to Sam, sitting down opposite him at the table.

"What do you think our legacy is gonna be? When we're gone, after all the stuff we've done. Do you think folks will remember us? You know, like a hundred years from now."

"No."

"Oh, that's nice."

"I mean, guys like us, we're not exactly the kind of people they write about in history books. You know?"

"Hmm..." He hmms, taking a swig of his beer and thinking it through, because there are already books, the crappy ones Chuck wrote, but those are found in the fiction section of the bookstore.

Then he's thinking about them, who they are as people, how hard they've fought, the good they've done, if anyone will really remember all that. And then he has a crazy thought, except it isn't crazy, because it's the truest expression of what his time on this Earth has meant. And he's on his feet, going to Sam, kneeling down in front of him, looking up at the person he dragged out of that burning house thirty years ago, the one he raised, the one he's fought alongside, the one he's laughed with, cried with, saved the world with. The one he couldn't have done any of it without. Wouldn't have wanted to do any of it without. The one that is his everything.

"I know we can't but if we could, would you marry me?"

Sam's looking down at him, struck speechless, eyes shining. It looks very much like a 'yes'.

"Dean," he smiles, cupping his face. "We've already been married twelve years."

And Dean realises, that yeah, they kinda have. Ever since their dad went AWOL, it's been a pretty tight partnership. And it's incredible, how much he still loves and wants and needs Sam after all this time. They could have forever and it honestly wouldn't be long enough.

They move at the same time, meet in the middle, share another one of those kisses that says everything words can't. It's slow and deep, reiterating how this thing between them is transcendent and everlasting.

Resting their foreheads together, Dean offers the words he rarely says.

"I love you, Sam."

"And that's enough," Sam says, meaning that legacies and campfire stories don't really matter, the only thing, the only ones whose opinion and regard matters, is the two of them.

He touches Sam's face, looks into his eyes, wants Sam to really hear this.

"Never will be..."

Then he kisses Sam again, planning to show him what he means, how he hopes when all this is over, wherever they end up, that they end up there together. Because this, _them_ , it's the kind of thing that made God take notice, it's the kind of thing that can end the world when they aren't in it together.

Mouths still locked, he drags Sam up, then pushes him back, so he's sitting on the edge of the table and he can stand between Sam's legs.

Sam's arm snakes around his waist, drawing him closer, and they hold onto each other, sharing this thing that completes them.

He loves the way they take care of each other, and he wants to take care of Sam now, so he slides his hand in the back of Sam's jeans.

"Let me...?" he breathes into Sam's mouth.

"Uh-huh," Sam nods, pulling him closer, kissing him deeper.

Realising it's not quite gonna work in this position, and that they are wearing too many clothes, they kick off their boots and shuck their pants.

Sam's arms fold around him, squeezing him tight, mouth on his neck, while Dean reaches around and works Sam loose with two spit-slicked fingers.

He feels teeth in his flesh, just enough pressure to sit on that threshold between pleasure and pain, and figures he must be doing something right.

"You're too tall," he tells Sam, pushing him back, so he's sliding onto the table, books and beer bottles crashing to the floor as Dean follows, crawling over him, poised above him, still in awe that all this is his to have.

Sam mumbles something about it being cold, but Dean's too primed to give it much thought. He spits in his hand, slicks himself up, then he's pushing inside Sam, into that tight, wet heat, and there's nothing but Sam under him and all round him, nothing but being as close as they can be.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yes, keep going."

It's been a while since he's done this, and to do it with Sam... Well, it's almost too much, he just needs to remember to breathe...

"Feels good... Sam... So good..."

"Yeah, Dean... Oh, Dean... Yeah, yeah, like that..."

Sam's a little too tall to put them eye to eye, but he curls up, so they can kiss, holding himself there with his arms around Dean's shoulders. It makes this all a bit of a tangle, means he can't quite get the leverage he needs to thrust deep, but then, nothing in their lives is ever perfect or goes quite to plan. Still, they make it work as best they can like always.

"Sam... Sam... Love you so much..." He's running his mouth off, couldn't stop if he tried, but then Sam already knows all this so what does it matter now if he says it all out loud? "I love you, Sam... Couldn't live without you... Love you so damn much..."

And as it all wells up inside him, the enormity of his feelings for Sam, how vital and heady and all-consuming it is, how they fit together just right, he feels that buzz, but he doesn't want this to end, so when he orgasms, he stops himself from coming. It's a rush, makes his head spin for a second, but he keeps going, stays inside Sam, doesn't let this connection between them end.

"Stay with me, Sam," he pants into Sam's mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, promise..." Sam breathes back, fingers digging into his back.

It's when Sam comes, and everything tightens, that he finally lets go and rides his orgasm to the end. He's never had sex quite like this, never been with anyone he wanted to stay with and hold onto so much. It could be too much, too overwhelming if he lets himself think about what he has to lose, but Sam's right here, they're okay. _They're okay, they're okay, they're okay..._

He rolls off Sam, lays there beside him, and yeah, the table is a bit cold on his bare butt.

"Ha... Oh man..." Sam half laughs, half pants. "You think any other Men of Letters ever did that here?"

"Their loss if they didn't," Dean grins over at him, puffing too.

"Or left marks like this..." Sam wonders, brushing his fingers over Dean's throat.

"Tell me there isn't a hickey..." he groans, though he doesn't really mind Sam staking a claim.

"It's more like a bite mark," Sam offers. "If that helps..."

"Kinkier and more badass. Yeah, I like that better."

"Hey, you know what the sad thing about being a married couple is?"

"What's that?"

"Now we gotta be responsible and clean up this mess we made."

"Says who?"

"Says your husband."

"Are you calling me your wife?"

"Well, you do cook my dinner and iron my shirts."

"With beer!"

The conversation degenerates into nothing but childish banter after that, and having heard more than enough, Mr Ketch switches off the audio surveillance feed and begins to wonder how exactly this newfound knowledge can be used to his advantage.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this was worth the wait 🙂


End file.
